Not About Angels
by gallagherx
Summary: Cameron Morgan lives in Roseville, VA with her brother and six best friends. She's a tough but lovable lacrosse star, but with a very dark secret. What happens when a tall, dark and mysterious boy moves to town? Z/C, B/G, J/L, P/M
1. One

"I'm going to kill you."

Bex's voice was calm and reasoning. It wasn't the voice of someone who was cornering me on a cliff and about to strike.

I knew the drop was steep and would surely kill me, the only way out would be through Bex. I was crouched, getting ready to strike, so focused on my position that I didn't realize Bex pulled out a gun, held it to my face, and pulled the trigger.

Red filled the screen and my controller buzzed. I threw it down in defeat on the carpet while Bex applauded herself.

"I am _so_ going to kick Grant's arse on Sunday." She threatened in her heavy british accent. Even though Bex had been living in Roseville since 6th grade, and now we had three weeks left of Junior year, Bex's accent had not faded since I met her.

I just sighed and sat back on the couch. Sure, there was a time when Bex didn't stand a chance playing me in Call of Duty, but that didn't last long. Bex is the most competitive person I know, besides my brother, Grant. Although there is one thing that neither Bex or Grant can beat me at, and that's lacrosse.

"Bex?" I interrupted her little victory dance. "Can we go practice now?"

Bex just rolled her eyes and laughed.

"Cam, there's something seriously wrong with you." I sighed and raised an eyebrow.

She mimicked my sigh. "Fine, let's go."

Bex cradled the ball in her stick, leaning slightly, waiting to pounce. We were in her backyard, set up in her quarter-lacrosse field. It consisted of a restriction line, crease, and goal circle that had been painted on the grass. An orange posted goal sat in the middle of the circle, directly behind me. Having a lacrosse field (or, a quarter of a field) was not uncommon in Roseville. Everyone was involved with lacrosse. No other sports really mattered much. I mean, we had a football team, sure. But the guys on that team only played because they either couldn't get onto the lacrosse team or need athletic credit.

My friends and I all played lacrosse, or at least had some ties to it. Bex is the starting center. Macey is 3rd man, although she insisted that we call her 3rd woman. Liz, the least athletic one, is the team manager. And I'm the goalie for the varsity team. The four of us met at Roseville Middle, in 6th grade, when we could finally play team sports. We tried out together, we were the only 6th graders to make the 8th grade team. Liz even got on, after using her amazing math skills to calculate the "perfect" shots, but quit after a couple games since she kept getting pushed over. The four of us still became best friends. Grant was my other best friend, but his friends and my friends waited until 8th grade to decide that it was cool to be friends with the opposite gender. Our group skyrocketed then, Bex, Macey, Liz, Grant, Jonas, the male equivalent of Liz, Preston, center for the boy's lacrosse team, and I. We were all suddenly super-popular. I personally think it was because of Macey and Preston joining forces. They were both easily the most popular kids at our middle school, because of their fame. Both of their fathers were senators, and while Macey was probably the most gorgeous girl on the face of the earth, Preston was pretty hot, too.

We've kept up our tight bond of friends for four years. We still have our separate sides, of course. But if there's a party to go to, a lacrosse game to cheer at, we're all there for each other. We even have our unspoken Sunday night hang-outs, located in the basement of yours truly. We pigged out and gossiped, (the boys actually gossiping more than us girls,) and played video games until we all passed out on the couches.

We all just have a special bond. We're all on the varsity lacrosse teams (and have been since we were freshmen), with the exception of Liz and Jonas as team managers. And every Friday went like this.

We had school earlier today, ending at 2:00. We had lacrosse practice until 5:00, when we all split up. Grant, Jonas and Preston went to the house to drink beers and eat sandwiches, Macey, Liz, Bex and I went back to Bex's house to chill out for awhile. Bex and I usually played COD, practiced more lacrosse, ate, while Macey and Liz went swimming or painted their nails. Then we waited for Macey to figure out a game plan of the best parties going on that night. Liz usually helped her, but seeing as I missed a ball today during practice, she came outside to do some mental math and help me with my game. That's why I was standing in goal, Liz watching me intently with a clipboard in hand, Bex standing at the crease looking mental, and Macey laying down on the deck of the pool talking into a cellphone.

"Ready?" Bex asked, and I just nodded. I had my full gear on, which included a mouthguard that made it impossible to talk without spitting everywhere.

Bex suddenly broke out into a sprint and I narrowed my eyes, looking strictly at the yellow ball in her stick. She ran until she was inches away from the goalie circle, pulled back her arm, swiftly pulled it forward again, and shot the ball.

It was in the air for a second before I heard a smacking sound. My knees were together and the ball was rolling away from where it hit my thigh.

"Nice!" Bex said appreciatively. "Although I never understand why you don't practice with your stick."

I rolled my eyes, knowing that she was always a little peeved when I blocked her classic Baxter shot. It was an amazing shot, bouncing off the left bottom corner and sailing into the goal, and it always went in. Unless, of course, you were playing me. Then it never went in.

"I can't be afraid of the ball, Bex." I stated simply, and that was the truth. A goalie's biggest weakness will always be fear. The worst that can happen is that you get smacked in the knee and bruise. (Trust me, this happens often.) It hurts like hell, but if you can block out the pain then it's fine.

Bex grunted and kept shooting without success. It's not like she's never scored on me before. She's gotten in a few on me, so has other girls during practice when I let my guard slip. But I've never let anyone score on me in games. Most of the other teams aren't good enough, their shooters are predictable and make sloppy shots.

The only person who could always score on me was my father. He and I would practice in the field we have in our backyard for hours, sometimes so late that we'd have to turn on the spotlights. He'd try to convince me that it was time to go inside, but I'd argue and say that I needed to block his shot. We'd argue and practice for hours. I had never been happier.

Thinking of my father always weighed down my heart and made my stomach drop. He was a General in the US Army, and left for a special meeting in Kabul, Afghanistan when I was in 7th grade. Grant, Mom and I received word that the building he was in had been attacked and bombed. There were no survivors.

Mom changed after that. She became very quiet, very distant. At first, Grant and I thought she hated us, but after a couple weeks Aunt Abby came to help out with us. When I was 14 and Grant turned 15, Abby went back to work, and Mom got a job too. She doesn't come home anymore, just writes us letters. Of course we couldn't be left alone until Grant was cleared…

I shook the thought out of my head and focused on Bex trying out some intricate stick move that looked more like she was humping the stick instead of trying to shoot through her legs. Liz and I just started to crack up when Macey hopped up from her pool chair and screamed for us.

"Ladies!" Her voice was so eager that it scared me. "Guess which fabulous and gorgeously tanned lacrosse co-captain is throwing a rager tonight!"

I groaned when I saw my friend's faces. Aaron's parties were always crazy, always filled with drunk idiots. I don't drink. I don't like being out of control of my feelings and mind. It drives me crazy. Then a stab of curiosity got to me. Aaron wasn't tanned at all. So did she mean…

"Macey," I started slowly, "Don't tell me that we're going to Kyle's house."

She looked up at me with apologetic eyes. "Sorry Cam."

Dread filled my stomach and rose up my body. My friends knew that I didn't like Kyle. But it wasn't that I didn't like Kyle. I actually didn't mind him. It was who he was friends with. Who he'd inevitably invite.

"Look on the bright side, Cammie" Liz said, excited. "You get to see Josh!"

I flinched at the sound of his name.


	2. Two

**Hello lovely readers! Here's chapter two...**

They didn't know about Josh.

Well, let me rephrase that.

They knew that I had a boyfriend of four month, Joshua Abrams. They knew he went to a high school in the next town over, Lake Ridge. They knew that he was a cutie, that he drove a Lamborghini and that his father ran a major corporation in Richmond.

Being rich wasn't something new to us. We all lived in ridiculously large houses and owned ridiculously priced cars. So that part of Josh, they knew.

They had even met him a bunch of times, but none of them ever suspected anything. Not even Grant, who introduced us after meeting Josh at a lacrosse retreat. I had thought he was funny and cute for the couple of weeks. But when we went official, that's when things started to get bad.

I was thankful for lacrosse, for being goalie. I need excuses for bruises. But it was getting warmer, and wearing long shirts and pants was getting suspicious. I'd already gotten shit from Macey because of my sweating during school. But there was a dark purple bruise on my forearm nowhere near the shape of a lacrosse ball. So long sleeves it was.

I know that I've changed as a person in the past months. I've been more quiet, more scared. The only thing that hasn't altered was my lacrosse playing, and that's what I used to convince myself that everything was okay. As long as I could play lacrosse, I was fine. I think.

We were speeding away from Bex's house, for lack of better word. It was more like a mini-castle. Macey had hoarded us into her black Porshe Macan, and played some catchy pop music as we sped down the street from Bex's house to mine. We lived a block away from each other, Macey was about 10 blocks away from us and Liz was 15 away from Macey. Despite my lack of makeup, accessories and clothing, I also lacked parental figures, so we did almost everything at my house, besides after school at Bex's. (The boys hold farting contests, can you blame us?).

"Cam, you gonna drive tonight?" Macey asked from the front seat. Bex grinned at me. I rolled my eyes and looked to Liz.

"Lizzie?" I asked, hopefully, gripping her arm. She patted my hand and nodded.

I don't drink, I don't smoke, but I also don't want to be the responsible one this evening. Or any evening. Liz, on the other hand, liked getting handed responsibility. It was like a test to her, since she doesn't do anything either. It hurts her brain, according to her.

We arrived at the tall iron gates and stone walls that surrounded my home in no time. Macey reached up and pressed the small button attached to her sun visor, identical to the one I had in my car, the one Grant had in his car, the one that every one of our friends got to keep. I smiled to myself, knowing that Mom would kill Grant and I for just giving away gate openers, but it's not like we gave them a key to our house. Although, they do know where the spare is hidden.

A long, winding driveway greeted us once the gates opened and we started driving. The house started coming into view; tall stone brick walls and sparkling glass windows. The driveway circled around a fountain, revealing my Mercedes G-Class, Grant's red Ferrari, Preston's Jaguar, and Jonas's Bentley. Liz's BMW was back at Bex's house, parked next to Bex's black Maserati, which she rarely drove. Macey parked her car in the middle of the drive, blocking my car and the boy's too. She did this every time, even if I was the designated driver. We always took one of the Range Rovers in the garage to these parties, since we wouldn't want to get our babies trashed, as Macey would say.

We all shuffled out of the Porshe, my friends carrying duffel bags filled with makeup and clothes, me carrying my goalie gear and stick. We walked up to the front door and entered nosily, just in case the boys were having another "whose butt is stronger" contest. There was no way that I wanted to see Jonas in boxers again.

We set our stuff down in the foyer and headed to the kitchen to see what the boys were up to. The scene was a normal one, Preston, Jonas, and Grant sitting at the kitchen table drinking beers and playing cards. However, there was another boy sitting next to Grant, his eyes staring intently at his cards. I immediately stopped in my tracks. I could tell that he was tall even though he was sitting down. His dark hair was perfectly tousled. He was wearing a black t-shirt, and his arms were muscular. From under the sleeve of the arm closest to me I could see the beginning of a tattoo. Something black and red.

"Ladies!" Preston bellowed and raised his bottle. "You all look dashing tonight."

Macey rolled her eyes and strutted over to the kitchen. I was still staring at the boy, my mouth closed in a tight line and my eyes practically bulging out of my head. When Bex and Liz pushed past me to sit at the table, I expected him to look at them, but he still stared at his cards.

"Cam?" Grant asked, worried. No one seemed to notice his worry, though. But I didn't look at him. Anger rose in my chest, searing through my bones. How dare he do this? How dare he bring _him_ here?

"Cam." Grant demanded. Now everyone's eyes were on me, except that boy. And I was still standing still in the entrance of the kitchen, staring at him with the same hard intensity as before. Finally, he looked up from his cards, meeting my hard gaze with a soft smile. His familiar green eyes burned into mine as he whispered.

"Hi, Gallagher girl."

Anger seared though me once again.

"Living room," I snapped at both Grant and the boy. "Now."

I stalked out of the kitchen, hearing Bex whisper questions to Grant, but he just shrugged them off and followed me. I knew the boy was, too, since there were two sounds of footsteps echoing through the foyer as I walked into the living room and stood in front of the couch. Both boys stood at the entrance to the living room, looking at me expectantly. I motioned to the couch and they sat on it.

"Talk," I spit at Grant.

"Cam, I totally surprised him-" The boy started, but I cut him off.

"I didn't ask you, Zach." I snapped again, venom dripping from my voice. Zach. I hadn't used that name in months. Years. But here it was again, easily rolling off the tip of my tongue.

His eyes twinkled at my use of his name, but I just ignored him and stared at my brother. Even though he was technically a year older than me, we were still in the same grade. Which came in handy often, since he didn't have an excuse for acting smarter than me.

"He called me last night. I didn't know how to tell you." Grant started, but I cut him off too.

"Tell me what? He's visiting?"

"Moving." Grant said bluntly.

Fear shot through me this time, instead of anger. I sat on the coffee table and put my head in my hands, sorting through my thoughts. I hadn't seen Zach since the summer of 7th grade, but I still saw the boy that I saw then.

"I have to tell them, Grant." I whispered, remembering my friends.

I expected him to burst, begging me not to tell Bex. They were in the flirty almost more-than-friends stage, and this would surely ruin that. But Grant just nodded solemnly.

"I've already told Preston and Jonas some of it." He said, looking out the window and clearing his throat to cover up the croak that he gets when he's about to cry. He shot a worried glance at me, afraid that I'd burst at him, but I just nodded, too.

We stared at each other for a minute, and then I broke my gaze with him and turned to Zach. He was looking at his hands, no sign of a smile on his face now.

"I'm sorry," I said to him, and his head immediately snapped up, confusion filling his face. That was obviously not the thing he expected me to say to him.

"For snapping at you. I should know better than to just judge people on first glance. I mean, Grant is a decent person," I said with a small chuckle. "If you guys are as good of friends as I remember, then I believe you are too."

His intense eyes lifted to meet mine and I gave him a small smile, which he returned.

"Besides, I barely know you." I said, and just like that, the smile disappeared.

"Talk." Macey demanded in the same voice and tone I used ten minutes earlier.

I had dragged them away from the boys and up to my room. We were sitting in a circle on my bed.

"Just," I started, then closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead. "Don't freak out, okay? You guys have to promise not to freak out."

They all looked panicked but nodded after a couple seconds.

"So, you guys remember after my Dad died, right?"  
More nods.

"That summer when Grant and I went to my grandparents house?"

Liz was the only one that nodded this time, Macey and Bex just looked at me in confusion.

"Well, we didn't really just go to my grandparents house. I mean, we didn't go at all." I stopped looking at them and started chipping my nail polish off my fingernails as the whole story slipped out.

"We were all a mess after Dad died. Mom stopped talking. I started to pull myself inwards, but Grant started to lash out. It was really bad. He would come home with bloody knuckles and cut lips and we wouldn't say anything. It went on for awhile until Aunt Abby came and made him stop going out.

"She sent my Mom to therapy, but instead of sending us to our grandparents, she sent us to camps. Correctional camps. Grant had been fighting drunk guys outside of those sketchy bars on Spoon Street. I didn't do anything, and that was _my_ problem. I turned into a shell.

"We went to camps that were next to each other, but gender-separated. They were sectioned off in the different genders, too. Part of the camps were for potential juvenile delinquents, and part of them were for those in emotional distress. I guess I counted as someone in emotional distress, because the people around me were pretty crazy.

"It worked for me, though. And for Grant, but in a different way. He got really serious and scared. It lasted for only a week after we left, but I still notice it sometimes. I think they were really tough on the delinquents and way too soft on the distressed."

I looked up at my friends, expecting to see Liz crying or Macey rolling her eyes, but my three best friends just looked at me with blank stares.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Cam," Bex started, breaking the silence, "But why are you telling us now?"

"Zach was at Grant's camp." I shrugged. "They became best friends."

"How do you know him, though?" Macey asked, suspicious.

I shrugged. "I met him when I was helping Grant pack to go home."

"So he was on the delinquent side of camp?" Bex straightened up

I nodded, and spotted Liz was pulling out her laptop from her bag.

"So," Bex started with a devious glint in her eye. "What did he do?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "I don't think it was bad, though. They wouldn't put a wannabe street fighter and, like, a _murderer_ in the same bunk."

"What was the name of the camp, Cam?" Liz spoke for the first time, hard creases lining her forehead.

"The Gallagher-Blackthrone Correctional Camps."

Liz started typing furiously. I looked back at my friends, worried.

"So you guys aren't scared?"

They shook their heads.

"Are you mad that I didn't tell you?"

Bex sighed. "You're telling us now, aren't you? Just don't hide anything from us again. No matter how dark and scary."

I was relieved for a second, but then guilt crashed over me. I didn't tell them about Josh. I couldn't tell them about Josh. They'd never forgive me for being so weak. So I shot Bex I small smile and focused on Liz's furious typing.

"I can't get anything, Cam." She said in defeat, pushing the laptop from her lap.

"It's okay, Lizzie."

"Fuck!" Macey yelled, jumping up. We all turned toward her, worried.

"Look at the fucking time, Morgan! You're going to make us all late." She practically screamed at me.

I rolled my eyes. It was 7:32. We wouldn't be arriving at the party until 10:00, but Macey valued prep time almost more than she valued Chanel.


	3. Three

**WARNING: This chapter is graphic and violent, and possibly triggering. Please read at your own risk!**

**3 chapters in one night, think I can do one more?**

Two hours later, we were ready.

I think.

Macey had forced me to shower after seeing my helmet hair, and then spent an hour behind me, twisting and straightening and pulling and curling until I had an hairdo that looked like I elegantly just rolled out of bed. She then spent another hour on my makeup as Bex picked out my outfit. The other girls were allowed to do their own prepping, and I acted offended that Macey thought I needed help. But the truth was, I definitely did need help. I can put on makeup fine, I can make my hair acceptable, and I'm perfectly capable of picking out my own outfits. But, it's definitely nice not having to think about that, and let others do it for you.

Liz was wearing a soft pink skater skirt and a white shirt tied at the waist. She had ballet flats on, and her hair was in an innocent braid. She had on pink blush and pink eyeshadow, along with, you guessed it, pink lipgloss.

Bex was in a small dark red crop top and highwaisted black shorts. She was wearing black flipflops, and her hair flowed straight down her back. She had a smokey eye on her lids and purple lipgloss that only Bex could ever pull off.

Macey had on a green shirt and white shorts, with white heels. She had flicked out eyeliner and red lipstick on, and her hair was in little ringlets.

I had on black tights and a black leather skater skirt, with a light blue long-sleeved collar neck shirt. Macey shook her head at me when she saw my adjustments to the outfit she picked out, but she didn't say anything. She understood that I didn't want people to see my bruises, but she didn't understand that they weren't from lacrosse. I had bronzer on, defining my cheekbones, and brown eyeshadow. Macey was just finishing tousling my hair when she spoke.

"Just wait a few weeks. Then lacrosse will be over for a couple months and those bruises will go away."

Oh, god. I didn't even think of that. The bruises won't go away, not with how Josh has been lately, and I won't have an excuse for my friends anymore. I was on the verge of panicking when I heard a knock on the door and Grant popped his head in.

"Well hello ladies," He said, wiggling his eyebrows. I burst out laughing at his feeble attempts of flirtatious humor.

He rolled his eyes at me, then frowned when he saw what I was wearing.

"Cam, it's like a billion degrees out. You're gonna sweat so much." He said, concerned. He had noticed my sudden change of attire, and I knew that he didn't really believe my story of being embarrassed by my lacrosse bruises. I had dealt with them for years and years before.

I rolled my eyes at him, trying to pretend that I wasn't freaking out inside, and it seemed to work. He rolled his eyes back at me and left, calling out over his shoulder, "We leave in five!".

Liz was driving the Range Rover with Jonas sitting next to her. They were laughing about some hilarious computer joke, and I couldn't help but take out my phone to snap a pic of them. Grant, Macey, and Bex were sitting in front of me, and I was sitting next to Zach, who was in the middle of Preston and I. I pulled out my iPhone, but stopped before I opened up the camera. I had 3 text messages waiting from Josh.

My hands started to shake and sweat. I could tell that Zach noticed my sudden discomfort, and I hoped that he would ignore it, but he just tapped me.

"Are you okay?" He whispered in my ear, and I elbowed him to get him away. He was too close to my neck. What if he moved my turtleneck down? I had a huge bruise on my shoulder, the one facing him. All he would have to do was reach down and pull it a little bit, and see everything…

I shook my head and scooted closer to the window and further from him.

"Hey," He tried to poke me now, but I whipped my head around to face him.

"Stop it," I hissed, forceful.

I turned away from him and looked down at my phone, at the three messages I got from Josh. _Please let them be nice, _I prayed silently, then read them.

_Coming to Kyle's tonight. _That one was sent an hour ago.

_You better be there. _Twenty minutes ago.

_I'll get us a bedroom. _Two minutes ago.

Tears filled my eyes while fear invaded every part of my body. I had been pushing Josh's advances away since we started dating. That was the first reason why he started hitting me, because I wouldn't sleep with him. It would be so much easier to get it over with and lose my virginity to him. But I have to be tough somehow, even if I can't stand up to him.

As much as I hate to think of virginity as a precious jewel or a gift or something that I have to give to someone or even lose, I felt tough when I told myself that I was protecting something. I was like one of those spies we read about in the books, who are captured and tortured but will never give up. That's what I'm doing. I'm not giving up.

We parked in front of Kyle's house, behind a mass of cars. There were already red solo cups littering the front lawn and bass shaking the lawn that we walked up. I could feel Zach glancing at me, and a feeling of dread passed through my heart as I realized that he might have read the texts I'd gotten from Josh. What if he figures it out? What if he tells everyone and they all think I'm weak? But then hope rose in me as I saw Josh through the window to the house. He looked so happy, so innocent. He even had a Pepsi can in one hand instead of alcohol. We all entered the house, and as Josh saw me, I expected his eyes to light up like they used to. But they darkened. He strode towards me and grabbed my wrist, pulling me up the stairs behind me.

I stopped him, wanting to tell my friends where I was going, but he yanked me harder. My friends weren't even paying attention, they were all heading for the kitchen. Except for Zach. He was staring at me, very concerned, and I gave him a small, reassuring smile, staring into his green eyes, getting lost, when I was suddenly yanked out of view.

Josh didn't let go of my wrist until we were in the bedroom with the door locked. He turned to me, a devious smile on his face. He stepped toward me, removing the distance between us. His breath was stale as he cupped my face and looked into my eyes.

"Hi," I whispered, but he didn't say anything, just crashed his lips into mine. He pushed as hard as he could against my mouth, and I felt his tongue along my lips, demanding entrance. I allowed, and he kept kissing me forcefully. He sat us down on the bed. His hands left my face and he shoved them under my shirt, trying to pull it off of me. I hesitated, and his eyes grew disappointed as he realized that I didn't want to take it off.

"What the hell, Cam," He said to me, speaking to me for the first time.

I just looked at him. Anger filled his eyes and he reached over to turn on the light switch.

"What are you hiding from me?" He demanded. I shook my head, knowing that speaking would just make him angrier.

"Take it off!" He was yelling now. This wasn't about sleeping with him anymore. This was about him being in control and me avoiding a beating. I took off my shirt, and his eyes travelled over me with disgust.

"Cammie," He started, his nose scrunched up as if he couldn't believe how disgusting I was. "You really need to stop provoking me. You look terrible." He was blaming me for this. He was actually blaming me. I know that I could be nicer… or funnier… but that didn't give him an excuse to _beat_ me.

He stood up and unzipped his jacket. Fear shot through me again, worried that maybe I'd been wrong, that he was still thinking about sex. But no, he was digging around in the inside pocket of his jacket. He pulled out his wallet and a small packet of white stuff. Immediately, I knew what he was doing.

"Josh," I blurted out, startled.

He looked at me with disappointment and held his finger up, signaling for me to wait. I was so shocked that I didn't move as he took out his credit card, spilled some of the white stuff on the bedside table, separated it into thin lines with his card, and sniffed it up. When he turned back to me, his eyes were filled with a hatred I had never seen before.

"You're a little bitch, you know that?" He asked me, and before I could answer, he punched me in the face. I cried out, clutching my cheek. He punched me again, this time in the stomach, right on a bruise that had been there for only a week. I was crying now. He kept punching me. I fell to the floor and he kicked me in the stomach, once, twice. Then he kicked me hard in the face. Blood gushed out of my nose, and I screamed, but my noise was drowned out by the loud noise of the music throughout the house. He yanked me up by my hair and put his hands around my neck, chocking me. I started struggling and gasping, but right when I thought I was going to pass out, he let go. I thought it was over, but he punched me again in the face. And again. And once it was certain that at least one of my eyes were going to be swollen shut, he stopped, got his wallet, cocaine, spit on me, and then left.

I laid there with my turtleneck on the floor, stained with my blood. I still had my bra on. Blood still gushed out of my nose and I couldn't see out of my right eye. I was sure that I wouldn't be able to move for a week, but as soon as Josh left the room, I jumped up, ignoring the pain coming from everywhere in my body, and locked the door. He never came back for more, but this was the first time I'd seen him on coke, and hopefully the last. There was no way that my friends wouldn't find out about this. Maybe it was for the best that they know once and for all. So, I raised my bloodstained turtleneck to my nose to stop the blood and reached for my phone.

My hands were shaking so bad, I couldn't even hold the phone. So I set it down on the bed next to me and called Bex, but realized that neither of us would be able to talk or hear anything.

I pulled up messages and added Bex, Macey, and Liz to the recipients. It took 20 minutes to type a message. Blood kept getting in my mouth and I kept coughing, which resulted with horrendous pain from my ribs. I was having difficulty breathing and I still couldn't see out of my left eye, but I still typed.

_Help me upstairs bedroom locked door please break it can't move emergency please help_

I sent it, but I still didn't feel safe. What if they're all drunk? What if they all left me here? What if they're all asleep? But I stayed lying down, unable to move, staring at the clock on my phone. Through the house music it was almost impossible to hear anything, but I could have sworn that I heard footsteps and banging.

Suddenly, there were knocks on the door to the room I was in. Someone tried the handle, but it was locked. I heard shouting from outside the room, but I couldn't move to unlock the door. I couldn't move at all.

The door suddenly splintered and in ran my best friends. But the first face to reach mine belonged to someone with piercing green eyes. I heard sharp intakes of breath and someone crying but all I saw were those green eyes. And then everything went black.


	4. Four

**Oh my gosh, thank you guys so much for reviewing and following :)**

**This chapter is from Zach's POV, let me know what you think. **

The first thing that I didn't notice was how short Macey's shorts were. I didn't notice how Bex's outfit showed off her insane legs. I didn't drool over these girls like I normally would, and not because my oldest best friend and new best friends had dibs on them. I didn't notice anyone else but Cammie.

She was a lot prettier than I remember. She was a lot more grown up, too. She had, well, _blossomed, _as gross as that word is.

But the only thing I noticed about her outfit for the party was that she wasn't showing any skin. Not that I noticed because I _wanted_ her to show skin. Well, maybe I do, but she wasn't just _not_ showing skin. She was _covering_ up skin. She had been covering up skin earlier, too. Wearing a long sleeved shirt and leggings in 80 degree weather.

I tore my gaze away from Cammie and saw Grant glaring at me. I gave him a questioning look, and he wagged his finger, motioning for me to follow him into the kitchen.

"Where are you guys going?" Macey whined.

"We're gonna go make out." I responded, and Cammie burst out laughing. I felt a spark of pride at my humor, but it instantly dissolved as I saw the look on Grant's face.

"Grant?" I asked, concerned. "What's going on?"

"There's something wrong with Cammie," He admitted, "The others aren't seeing it, but I think that's because they haven't been exposed to the types of people that we have."

I nodded. At Blackthorne, we were like kindergartners in high school. Murderers, rapists, you name it. We met all of them. We knew how to identify them, a skill that made me lose faith in the entire human population.

"I just…" Grant played with with the watch he was wearing. "I just think that something's going on. I can't put my finger on it, but I think that boyfriend of hers is sketchy."

I nodded again, and tried to ignore the little stab of jealousy that I felt in my gut. It was ridiculous, getting jealous over some guy who was dating a girl I barely knew. I ignored my feelings and focused on Grant.

"I'll help as much as I can." I spoke solemnly.

"Thanks, bro." Grant slapped my shoulder and strutted out of the room, putting back on his mask of confidence and swagger.

I followed him out.

Liz was our designated driver for the evening. I don't drink or smoke anymore, but I still don't like having to lug around my drunk friends for an entire night. I was smushed between Cammie and Preston, hunching my broad shoulders forward so that I didn't smash them against the windows. It would be so much easier for me to stretch my arms, but I'm pretty sure that Cammie would freak out if I did that. I could tell from the way she was sitting that she didn't want any part of us to touch.

I sighed and moved my uncomfortable position so that my shoulders were touching both Preston and Cammie's. Neither of them reacted, though, so I relaxed. I saw Cammie giggling at the scene in the front seat; Jonas and Liz joking around about nerdy things. She raised her phone up as if she was going to take a picture, but then her entire body tensed as she looked at the screen.

Grant was sitting in front of me, oblivious to his shaking sister, so I tapped her on the shoulder. Easing closer, I whispered in her ear.

"Are you okay?"

I was met with an elbow and Cammie moving even closer to the window, to get away from me. Hurt rushed through me, but I played it off as a joke.

"Hey," I started, trying to make the situation better, but she just whipped around to face me.

"Stop it." She hissed, no trace of humor in her voice, and turned back around to her phone. She was shaking again, and I could tell that she wasn't thinking about me as she read something on her phone. I maneuvered myself so that I could see what her screen said.

There were three texts that she was looking at, and from the name on the top of the screen I could see the name "Josh". Was that the name of her boyfriend?

I couldn't see all of the text messages, except the last one.

_I'll get us a bedroom._

Is that why Cammie was shaking? Was she nervous to lose her virginity, maybe? Excited? I tried to ignore the darker thoughts in my brain, but from the way that Cammie was shaking, I knew that the only emotion that could cause her tremors was fear. Yet, I didn't know what to do.

We arrived at the party before I could come up with a plan. Cammie was in front of me, and I just stared at her. Maybe I should follow her around all night. It would be a little creepy, but that's better than her getting hurt. Grant was like a brother to me, and there's no way in hell that I'd let someone that means so much to him get hurt.

We entered the house. I was still studying Cammie, but she wasn't shaking like she had in the car. In fact, she lit up. Her entire face turned happy, and I could see that she was staring at a boy who was walking toward her. He didn't reflect Cammie's happiness, but he didn't look hateful.

They didn't talk, he just grabbed her wrist and pulled her up the stairs. Our friends dispersed, but I was still watching Cammie. She didn't look scared, or worried. She was almost up the stairs when she turned to me and gave me a reassuring smile, and then was yanked out of sight.

I sighed, not wanting to intrude on the happy couple. I reminded myself that the bad feeling in my gut was just jealousy that I couldn't get every pretty girl to fall in love with me, and nothing more.

45 minutes later, and Grant was killing it at beer pong. But he wasn't drinking, much to the dismay of his opponents, I noticed. We were surrounded by drunk people, but Grant wasn't one. Preston, Bex, and Macey each had beers in their hands, but they definitely weren't drunk. And Jonas and Liz were sitting on the couch, touching legs, which Macey told me "happens every fucking party." Cammie still hadn't come downstairs, which again "happens every fucking party."

I had asked Macey for details, and she went off on this whole rant about how Jonas and Liz get to holding hands by the end of the night but never do anything more and then avoid each other for the next few days, but then I cut her off, making it clear that I wasn't asking about them.

"Oh," She said, her eyes narrowing. "Why do you want to know, Goode?" I regretted telling her my last name.

"She doesn't seem like the type of girl to hide away with her boyfriend during social events." I shrugged, and it was true. She seemed more like a girl who would be dancing with her friends and having fun.

Macey shrugged, too. "I think Josh just wants to get his hands on her," She wagged her eyebrows suggestively, then looked down at her buzzing phone, but just as she said the words, panic shot through me. It was so obvious, how could I have not seen it? I knew the textbook signs of domestic violence, something that I didn't learn from Blackthorne, but from being in foster care for four years. The long sleeves in summer, the fear, but then the hope. Cammie wasn't looking at Josh with happiness, she was looking at him with _hope_.

I started to turn to the host of the party, Kyle, where he was drinking beer and standing close with some brunette.

"Kyle," I said. We had hit it off twenty minutes before, him convincing me to try out for lacrosse. "Where's that dude Josh?"

"He left before we started talking, bro." Kyle nodded at me.

Where the fuck was Cammie then? I started to make a beeline for the stairs when Macey yanked my arm with more force then I thought she ever had. Before I could pull out of her grasp, she thrust her phone at me, and I saw a text on the screen. From Cammie.

_Help me upstairs bedroom locked door please break it can't move emergency please help_

Intense fear shot through me again, and I looked behind Macey to see an equally terrified Bex, Jonas, Liz, and Preston. Grant and I shared a quick look, and instead of fear he wore an expression of rage. I nodded at all of them, and we ran up the stairs.

There were twelve doors, and we immediately split up. I tried a door but it opened easily.

"Look for the one that's locked!" Bex shouted, mirroring my thoughts.

"Here!" Liz yelled, and started banging on the door.

I walked over to her and lightly pushed her out of the way, getting ready to kick the door in. The door splintered once my foot touched it, and we all rushed in. The lights were on in the room, and we all froze. A small girl was lying on the bed, a blood-soaked blue shirt held up to her nose. She had on a bra and her skirt and tights, but they were ripped. Old purple and black bruises covered her skin, and new bruises blossomed on top. Liz started to cry, but I was the first one to move. I rushed over to her, locking eyes, and she stared up at me for a few seconds before she passed out.

"Grant!" I yelled for him, pointing at the comforter on the bed. He understood, and we began wrapping Cammie in it.

"Jonas, you drive." I ordered, carefully picking Cammie up. She was rolled up in a white fluffy comforter, to protect her bruised body from unwanted eyes downstairs.

Grant and Jonas went in front of me, pushing people out of the way as I carried Cammie out of the house and to the car. Jonas and Preston got into the front seat, Liz, Bex and Macey crawled into the back. Grant and I sat in the middle with Cammie laid out across us.

"Hospital," Grant ordered as Jonas turned on the car and pulled away from the house.

"Is she breathing?" Macey asked.

I lowered my ear to her mouth and heard the slow wheezing of breath that was coming in and out of her.

"Barely," I responded. Her shirt was bloody and wouldn't be able to soak up much more, so I threw it on the floor and started to take off my own shirt, folding it up and pressing it to her nose.

"Who do you think…" Preston started from the front seat, but Grant, Bex, Macey and I cut him off.

"Josh." We all said in unison, but Grant and I whipped our heads around to stare at Macey and Bex.

"We suspected." Bex said cooly. "We just got it confirmed."

I nodded and turned back around, but I could sense Grant's hurt as he realized that Bex didn't tell him. It was obvious how much sexual tension there was in the group- Preston and Macey, even Liz and Jonas, but Bex and Grant had it the worst. Yet, from what I had seen from the couple of hours that I'd been hanging out with them, I thought it was just physical. But judging from the huff that Grant gave, he must like her.

I kept my gaze on Cammie's face. Her right eye was swollen shut. Dried makeup trailed down her face, indicating that she had been crying. Her lip was split and her nose was probably broken. But I just stroked her hair and looked down at her, wondering how anyone could ever do anything like this to someone so beautiful.

But just as the thought entered my head, I grew rigid. I barely know this girl, and I'm already attached to her? What the fuck is wrong with me? What is it about her that makes me so intrigued?

But I had no more time to think, since Jonas was pulling up to the emergency room. Grant and I dashed out and ran into the small lobby, startling the other people waiting to get examined.

I held on to Cammie as Grant explained as quickly as he could.

Her breath hitched and she briefly opened her eyes.

We stared at each other for a few seconds, until her eyes fluttered and she was pulled back into unconsciousness.

**If you have any suggestions, let me know! :)**


	5. Five

**Ugh, this chapter really sucks! I'm sorry :( I just needed to get it out, but I promise that the next one will be a lot better :)**

"You have no internal problems, Miss Morgan." Dr. Wolf told me, flashing me a small smile. "You'll have some painful bruises for a few weeks, but nothing permanent."

Relief washed over me, but some doubt stayed.

"And my throat?" I asked her, in my new raspy voice.

She just waved her hand at me. "There are no problems with your breathing. There is no long-term damage to your vocal chords. Just take it easy for a couple weeks, and your voice will go back to normal."

I nodded, grateful.

"Miss Morgan," Dr. Wolf said, eyeing me over her clipboard. We were in her office, me sitting on the table covered with paper in a very unnecessary hospital gown. It was Saturday afternoon, not even 24 hours after the party, but I felt so much better. The swelling in my left eye went down and I wasn't wheezing.

I looked up at Dr. Wolf, the woman who hadn't given me questioning looks or pitiful glances. But with her tone of voice, I knew what was next.

"I realize that you might not want to talk about what happened, but I highly recommend that you fill your friends in about it. I also need to recommend that you talk to the police."

I froze. The police. I completely forgot about how, in the eyes of the law, I'd been assaulted. Telling my friends would be a walk in the park compared to going to the police.

"You can choose to not press charges, but the nurses observed bruises that are weeks old. Your brother filled me in on some of his suspicions," My head snapped up, but she continued talking. "And you should stay away from this boy."

I opened my mouth to say something, but she just held her hand up.

"I know, Miss Morgan. It feels like heaven when he's not angry. And it's easy to forgive him after and pretend that he'll change. But he won't. It's important that you realize that this also has nothing to do with you. He has problems that he is projecting onto you. It's not fair, and you deserve better."

I couldn't speak, I was so shocked. These weren't the words of someone who had studied battered women, or whose best friend had gone through it. This was personal.

She smiled slightly. "Telling them is always hard, but it's completely worth it."

I barely nodded.

She checked the watch on her wrist. "Your brother is waiting for you outside, you'd better get changed and go."

I started to get up when she stopped me. "I want you to come back in a week, okay? Same time. Just a check-in." I nodded and thanked her.

"Oh, Cammie?" She said just as I'd opened the door. "You're not weak."

I held my hand up to my forehead, looking out for Grant's Ferrari, when I finally spotted it across the parking lot.

Dr. Wolf's words bounced around through my head with each step. _You're not weak. _Maybe she was right. _You're not weak. _She was right. _You're not weak. _

No, I wasn't. I was scared, but not weak.

I'm not weak. I never was weak. I was strong enough to endure months of abuse.

I'm strong enough to do this.

I knocked on Grant's car window. I couldn't see anything since the windows were tinted, but I was pretty sure he was sleeping, since I could hear him fumbling around to unlock the door. I heard a click and opened the door. I had on leggings and a sweatshirt, no doubt picked out by Bex, and even though it was almost 90 degrees out, I wasn't cold.

I slid into the car and was met by a puffy-eyed Grant. He'd been crying, that was obvious. But it was just confirmed when I sat down and he tried to hug me, but stopped, worried that he'd hurt me. His eyes filled up with tears.

"Grant," I whispered, and I hugged him. His hands were soft on my back, and he squeezed me very, very, very lightly.

"Cam, I'm so sorry." He whimpered.

I pulled away from him. "What? Why are you sorry?"  
He shook his head. "I introduced you to him, I…" He trailed off, staring out the car window. I punched him in the shoulder lightly.

"Stop that." I scolded him, smiling a bit, trying to lighten his mood.

"It's my fault." He whispered, staring at his hands in his lap.

"No, Grant." I said firmly, but he just shook his head.

"Is it _my _fault?" I demanded.

He looked up at me, fear in his eyes.

"No, Cam!" He started to shake a bit. "It's not your fault at all, you didn't do anything wrong!"

I smiled at him. "Neither did you. Now drive, I've got a lot of explaining to do. Are they all at the house?"

He nodded, looking at me strangely. But I just pointed at the keys in the ignition, and he started driving.

I knew that he felt my strange mood, because I felt it, too. My conversation with Dr. Wolf helped me immensely. I needed someone to tell me that I wasn't weak. I needed to tell my friends, and I needed to stay away from Josh.

We arrived at the house after a car ride of silence. I could see our friend's cars in the driveway, and I had no doubt that they'd be in the family room, eating, sleeping, or watching TV. However, when I walked into the house, the family room was dark. I walked into the kitchen, and saw Bex, Macey, Liz, Preston, Jonas, and Zach sitting at the kitchen table, all of them looking very stoic and serious.

They all stared at me when I walked in. I cracked a small smile, trying to get a similar reaction out of any of them, but they all stayed the same. My chest felt like it weighed a ton, and my hands started to shake. I was starting to panic, doubting my strength. I was about to freak out when Zach smiled at me.

"You hungry?" He asked, still smiling, and I gave him a grateful smile back.

"Yes, but I need to talk to you guys first." His smile wavered a bit, but I think he noticed my relief, so he kept it up.

There were two empty chairs at the table, so Grant and I sat down. It was silent for a few seconds, before I realized that I had to start.

"So, um," I cleared my throat and looked at all of my friends in turn. "Before I start, you all need to know that none of this is anyone's fault. Except for… Josh…" I forced out his name, but continued. "And it's not my fault, either. I was just someone that he could take his anger out on." I said, quoting Dr. Wolf. I looked at all of my friends, and they looked less serious now. They looked… relieved. So I continued.

"As you know, Josh and I started dating four months ago. It was perfect, but two weeks in, he asked me to be his girlfriend. I thought it was too fast, but I said yes. That's when it started to get bad.

"The first time was after a lacrosse game. I came to watch because it was on a day when we had an early practice. It was some random team, out of their league. It was supposed to be a challenge for the other team and a practice for Josh's team, but Josh thought it would be funny to get drunk before the game, so he could beat the other team drunk.

"They lost really badly. Josh fucked it up. And he was so angry, so drunk… when the game was finished, and they lost, he pulled me into the bathroom and started hitting me. I didn't know what to do, I thought it was just because he was drunk. He apologized immediately after, and I forgave him, because I thought it was just a one-time thing.

"But it kept on happening. It was only when he was drunk, but then it was when he was sober. Then it was happening daily. Then it was happening because I wouldn't sleep with him." I ignored Liz's quiet crying at the end of the table.

"Last night was the worst that he's ever done, obviously. He was sweet at first, he wasn't drunk. I was really excited, I thought he wouldn't hurt me. But then, I wouldn't put out, and he did coke in front of me, and well… you know the rest."

I finished my story and looked up, expecting to see sorrow and sadness, but much to my surprise, my friends were furious. Not at me, but at Josh.

"I am going to kill him." Preston said, breaking the silence.

"Not if I get there first." Bex challenged, in a voice that was downright scary.

Panic rose in my throat. I thought I was going to drown in it.

But Liz was the one to save the day.

"Cammie," She said quietly, but everyone's attention went to her. "How can we make you comfortable with this?"

Everyone turned to me, realizing the most important part of this wasn't how they were going to kill Josh.

"I know that it's weird," I admitted. "And I know that you guys must be angry at me for not telling you sooner. But trust me, it was really hard. I… talking with Dr. Wolf really helped me realize what a funk I was in. Do you know that I actually believed that I was weak?" I laughed to myself.

"I guess… don't act different around me. I promise that this Josh bullshit is going to stop. I know that I've changed. But seriously, guys," I looked at them. "I'm starting to change back."

Macey was the first one to grin. But slowly, all of my friends, including my brother, gave me huge grins.

"Does this mean that you'll wear short sleeves again?" Macey practically squealed.

"Do I look like I want to keep sweating all the time?" I squealed back, and everyone laughed. It felt good. It felt normal.

I felt normal again. Finally.


	6. Six

**Just a quick A/N.**

**First, shoutout to Liela54352 for such a nice review, and who also reminded me of something to say about this story…**

**If you or someone you know is being hurt please do not hesitate to speak up. Around a year ago, I was badly hurt by someone who I thought was my friend. It can be embarrassing, and difficult, but speaking up about what happened is completely worth it! The feeling of releasing a secret like that is amazing. **

**I also wanted to make clear that I am basing Cammie's reactions to what happened to her with what I felt during my own healing process. And for me, the change was immediate. When I didn't tell anyone, I tried to cover up my feelings but I became a very different person, however, once I told people, I switched back. If that seems unrealistic to you, I'm sorry, but again, I'm just going off my own experience! **

**Love all of you! **

* * *

They all slept over that night. It wasn't anything new; every Saturday night the boys would crash in the basement and us girls would be in my room. I expected there to be an elephant in the room when we all ordered Chinese and ate together, or when we popped in Superbad and watched it together around the couch. No, nothing was different except for the new addition to the group.

Grant was the only one who was supposed to be friends with Zach, since the rest of our friends had only met him 24 hours earlier. Yet, here he was, joking with the boys and teasing the girls like he'd been there forever. It was strange, but at the same time, it felt perfectly natural.

It was currently 2:30 am, and we had just finished watching This is the End, Bex, Macey, and I complaining the whole time about how stupid the movie was, while Grant, Jonas, Preston, and Zach sat staring at the screen like it was the most amazing thing they'd ever laid eyes on.

"Finally," Bex breathed when the end credits started to roll.

Grant shot her a fake look of hurt. "Bexie, why you gotta rag on my faves?" He said, mocking the way that half the school spoke.

Bex was about to tear his head off for using her old nickname, when Macey interrupted.

"Why don't we play a game?" She announced, a devious glint in her eye.

Bex shrugged. "If everyone is in," She said, and everyone's eyes turned to me. Before Josh and I started dating, I was totally down for games. I took the hard dares, drank when I'd done something, gone skinnydipping. I was pretty much free.

But Josh had changed my entire perspective on life. Everything revolved around that one secret, and now that the secret was out, I could go back. I could really go back to how I was before. I could be Cammie again.

So that's why I shrugged my shoulders and said, "Sure". And I grinned.

Macey gave me a huge grin back, clapped her hands, and made us all sit in a circle.

"What are we playing today, Mace?" Preston asked her, half teasing, but half fearful.

She stood up from the circle, opened the mini fridge that was in the corner of the family room, and pulled out four beers, four Mike's Hard Lemonade, and four Gatorades. She put them down in the middle of the circle, and gestured for us to take one. Bex, Preston, and Grant immediately grabbed a beer, Macey grabbed a Mike's Hard, while Liz and Jonas grabbed a gatorade. Zach didn't move, he was just looking at me. But I was looking at the drinks.

When did I stop drinking? I told myself I hated the feeling of being drunk, of being out of control. And I did, but drinking a bit won't change me that much. And I didn't have a reason to be in control around these guys anymore. These were my best friends, plus Zach, and I trusted them with my life. I grabbed a Mike's Hard without thinking about it more.

"Damn, Cam," Macey giggled. "I like where this is going."

But she wasn't going to like it anymore, because I opened the bottle. With my teeth.

It was my signature move, before I stopped drinking. I learned how to do it after seeing it in a movie, but Macey screamed each time I put the cap in between my teeth.

"CAMERON!" She screamed at me once the cap was off. Everyone laughed, except Zach, who was just looking at me with a ghost of a smile on his face. He swiped a Mike's Hard, raised it to me, and pulled off the same move with his teeth.

Macey stared at his in disbelief.

"Were you two separated at birth or something?" We all laughed again as Macey passed a bottle opener around, warning everyone about tooth damage and the unattractiveness of fake teeth. Once everyone had their drinks open, Macey clapped her hands together again.

"Are we ready?" She asked, eyes twinkling.

Preston spoke up. "You haven't told us what we're playing yet!"

"We, my dear," She spoke slowly and with purpose. "Are playing Never Have I Ever!"

"But Macey," Liz protested. "We already know everything about each other." And she was right. I knew how many times Macey had broken her right arm (3!), how far Bex had gone with her camp counselor freshman year (2nd base), and the hiding place of Preston's journal (underneath the floorboards next to the bathroom door!). I knew everything about my friends, I could live their lives for them if I needed to, and they could do the same for me, except for the Josh part.

"Well, we don't know anything about this guy over here," She pointed to Zach, who was smirking. "And he doesn't know anything about us. So we're playing."

Fifteen minutes later, we were still on the PG level of the game. We'd revealed boring things, for instance, Jonas has never been grounded, Liz has never cheated on a test, Bex has never broken any limbs. These games always started this way, but ended very, very, very differently.

It was my turn. "Never have I ever made out with someone over 30," I said, grinning at Grant. He drank, and Zach burst out laughing. That was the good part of this game, Zach practically wet his pants at every embarrassing thing that was brought up. His laugh was deep, and made his shoulders shake uncontrollably.

Macey's turn. "Never have I ever been arrested."

I shot her a look, and then glanced towards the group. We fell quiet while Grant and Zach drank. Everyone knew about the Gallagher-Blackthorne Correctional Camps thing, but the girls didn't know that Grant and Zach got arrested for what they did.

"Anyway," I clapped my hands together to try and break the silence. "Moving on. Liz, it's your turn."

Liz was always so innocent during our games, choosing the easiest and least embarrassing thing. That's why I was extremely surprised when she blurted; "Never have I ever had oral sex."

We all stared at Liz for a second.

"What?" She asked, burning red. "Someone had to say it."

We all laughed. As I brought the bottle to my lips to take a drink, along with Macey, Bex, Grant, Preston, and Zach, I could feel that particular Zach staring at me. I groaned internally. I knew what he was thinking, and I realized that he wasn't the only boy staring at me. The four boys looked at me, concerned, while the other girls were completely oblivious.

"What?" I asked them, growing uncomfortable.

"Cam," Grant whispered. "Did he… did _Josh…_"

I cut him off with an eye roll and a smile.

"Grant, Josh was not the first boy that I've done things with. Besides, I never let him get past second base." I could tell that everyone was slightly shocked at my lack of shyness that had followed me around for months, but I didn't care anymore. I needed to change from the person that Josh had turned me into.

"He's got what we call a _chode_" I muttered, but everyone heard my joke. Zach was the first to laugh. Everyone joined in, laughing so hard that Macey was crying.

"Cammie, I've missed you." Bex shouted, and I grinned at her.

My body immediately bolted upright. I was shaking, sweating, and silent tears were running down my face. I was on the couch in the family room, Bex sleeping next to me, and Grant next to her. The glowing red numbers from the cable box said that it was 4:15. Everyone else seemed to still be asleep.

We had all decided to crash in the room after our game ended at 3. I was the only one who got sleep in the hospital the night before, so everyone else had crashed pretty quickly.

I got up off the couch as quietly as I could and exited the room, heading towards the kitchen. Once I got to the kitchen, I turned on the light and got a glass of water. My muscles were sore from being beat up, and I had bruising everywhere. I was still wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants, but knowing that I'd be able to wear shorts and a t-shirt without explaining anything to my friends sounded extremely appealing.

I hopped onto the marble counter, sitting cross-legged and staring out the huge glass windows into the backyard. We had an outdoor pool that Grant and I used to spend hours playing in. It looked so inviting, the pool lights illuminating the blue water. The sky was dark, and the sun wouldn't rise for another two hours. It was just so tempting to take off my clothes and hop in.

But my mind drifted back to the nightmare I had just had. I was sitting in that bedroom in Kyle's house, and Josh was there. He was hitting me and hitting me, and my friends were there, staring at me. Every time I tried to yell out for help, they would just look at me in disgust, calling me names, like whore, bitch, slut…

"Hi, Gallagher Girl."

Zach's playful voice scared me so much that I jumped, spilling water all over my sweatshirt.

"Shit, Zach!" I hissed, putting the glass down. I didn't bother to wipe any water from my shirt, just wiped the tears I hadn't realized that I'd shed.

"Hey," He whispered, noticing that I'd been crying. He swiftly walked over to me, and pulled my hands away from my face. He was holding my wrists, trying to look into my eyes.

"Are you okay?" He asked softly, his bright green eyes burning holes in mine. I just stared into them for a minute, soaking up how safe he made me feel when he looked at me. It was different than the way I felt when Josh looked at me. Josh always made me feel like I was doing something wrong. Zach's gaze makes me feel like I'm doing something _right_.

I nodded. "I just had a really bad dream about… the other night."

He nodded, understanding. He had been understanding throughout this whole process. He didn't even know me, but I felt safe to talk with him.

"Thank you," I said. "for being there. For Grant." I added at the end, just to make sure that I wasn't overstepping any boundaries.

He smiled slightly. "Of course," He said in a voice that made my feeling of security and safety grow even deeper. Holding onto this feeling, I took a risk.

"Do you want to go swimming with me?" I blurted, but regretted it as soon as I said it. I expected him to look at me with confusion, or look at me like I was the weirdest person ever, but he just grinned at me.

"Thank god you asked that. The pool looks so tempting right now."

I hopped off the counter and grabbed two towels from the cupboard under the sink. We walked over to the french doors on the porch, and I opened them quietly.

It was extremely hot outside, hotter than it should have been at 4 in the morning, but the weather made it even better. I didn't think as I pulled off my clothes, leaving me in my underwear. I knew that all of my bruises were showing, but I didn't bother to look at Zach to know that he was staring. I was taking off my bracelet when he gaze became too much. I whipped around to him, to see that he hadn't even taken off his shirt. He was just looking at me.

"Stop it," I snapped, annoyed that he was paying so much attention to my bruises. But, he wasn't looking at me in disgust, or sorrow. He was looking at me in awe.

"I'm just," He stammered a bit. "You must have a seriously high pain tolerance."

I rolled my eyes. "Let's get a move on, Goode." I pointed to his clothed body and, thankfully, he didn't make a sexual joke about it.

I thought about his words. They didn't bug me. They actually made me feel, well, _better._ I _did _have a high pain tolerance, because I'm not weak. I'm not weak at all. I smiled to myself and jumped into the pool.

* * *

**I hope you guys liked this chapter! I was super stuck on it for awhile, so I hope the end product doesn't suck too much!**

**Anyway, I have another story that I just started called ****_Black Sheep_****. Check it out!**

**Love always, **

**E**


	7. Seven

**A/N **

**SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT! I was a little stuck with where to take this story, and I was also super busy with school. I only have 4 more weeks left (and then I'll be a senior in high school)!**

**So many things have been going on in my life right now, in fact, as I write this sentence, a boy is calling my phone. I was hanging out at my friend's house earlier and so much drama started to happen, so I left, but this boy is so thirsty. I mean, I have other things to do! Like writing this fanfiction! **

**Last night (Friday) I went into Providence to see the 1975 in concert, and it was AMAZING. I'm thinking of writing the first romantic Zammie scene while they're at a concert exactly like that…. ;)**

**On a more serious note, if you remember my last A/N about that guy who hurt me around a year ago… Well on Friday I found out that (apparently) he's trying to apologize to me because he's "eternally sorry" about what happened. Yeah, right! Just stay out of my life, or I'll kick your fucking ass. **

**Oh, I also forgot to tell you guys that there WILL be some stuff about lacrosse in here, since I am a goalie for my high school team, and I can't help but put some sport stuff in there. But ANYWAY, here's chapter 7!**

* * *

_"Slut," Bex spat. _

_"Whore," Macey laughed. _

_They were going around in a circle. Taking turns. _

_"Bitch." Grant snapped. _

_"Virgin!" Liz yelled, and everyone laughed at the statement. _

_They were laughing at me. _

_Josh appeared in front of me, as if he came out of thin air. _

_"Weak." He whispered to me, and started hitting me, while my friends laughed even harder. I started to scream, louder and louder, but the louder I got, the louder my friends laughed. _

"Cammie!"

My eyes flew open. I was lying in my bed, sweat sticking all over my body, and tears running down my face. A scream was caught in my throat.

Grant was above me, shaking my shoulders, worry etched into his face.

I looked up at him, apologetic.

"Oh, Cammie," He mumbled, and pulled me into a hug. I was shaking so hard.

It was 3:00, Wednesday morning. I hadn't gone to school on Monday or Tuesday, wanting the bruises to fade before I faced the other students, but I had promised Bex and Macey that today was the day that I'd come back.

This had been the routine every night since the party, though. Vicious scenarios visited me every time my head hit the pillow, and I woke up either crying or screaming.

Grant had taken to sleeping on the couch in my room, but judging by the dark circles under his eyes, it must be a nightmare for him, too.

"Grant," I said, sniffling. "You don't have to sleep in here. Go to your own room."

"No," Grant said, stubbornly.

"Come on, I'll be fine. At least when I'm having a nightmare, I'm still sleeping. And we only have four hours until we have to get ready for school." I raised an eyebrow, and knew that Grant was thinking about all the work he'd missed while playing hooky with me.

Neither of us had seen our friends since they left the mansion on Sunday night, although I got updates via text message from the girls every two seconds. Apparently, I had missed a lot of drama. Tina Walters had, apparently, been telling people that I had a heart attack at the party.

Grant sighed at my suggestion and nodded, grabbed his comforter from the couch and left the room. I laid back down, but every time I closed my eyes I heard the taunts of my friends.

It suddenly felt like a million degrees in my room, so I jumped up and threw the comforter off of me. I turned on the bathroom light, stripped off my pajamas, and studied myself in the bathroom mirror.

Green and yellow bruises covered my stomach. The bruises on my neck have definitely faded more than the ones on my arms, but they were still visible.

And my legs. I only had one bruise on my leg, since the large handprint had faded into a yellow tint. And the only bruise that was there was from lacrosse. I grinned at my reflection, realizing that I could wear shorts today, for the first time in months. And then I grinned at my grin. It was amazing how well I knew my own face, because I knew that I hadn't smiled that much since, well, before Josh.

Being in a relationship with Josh had completely changed my appearance. I wore long pants and long sleeved shirts, obviously, but I started to only focus on what Josh liked in a girl. He told me he liked short girls, and despite already being short, I started to slouch my shoulders. He told me he hated nose piercings, so I took my stud out. He even told me that he preferred brown eyes, and I have a pair of brown contacts hidden in my bathroom drawer. I had focused so much on what he liked, that I didn't even care about what I liked. Everything was about pleasing him, but I finally had my head out of the clouds.

But then, suddenly, the sky came crashing down on me at once. It felt like I couldn't breathe. My stomach dropped over and over. Fear crept up my spine and tears welled in my eyes as I realized the fact that I hadn't thought about for days.

Does Josh still think that we're dating?

He's got to realize the damage that he did to me, how I couldn't even move after he was done with me. He's got to know that my friends found me and figured it out.

I shoved the feeling back down, preparing to just deal with the fear by myself, when I remembered how much trouble keeping secrets had gotten me into. I should tell my friends about my worry. They will help me. I can trust them.

It's not weak to talk to them.

"You ready?" Grant asked from the driver's seat of my Mercedes. We both have lacrosse practice today, and let's just say that the Ferrari isn't exactly equipped to deal with two huge bags of padding and sticks.

I nodded, slowly. I was afraid to tell Grant about my worry, but at the same time I was scared that it would fall off the tip of my tongue if I opened my mouth to speak. I had decided to tell my friends during lunch, so I could talk to them all at once.

_I'm here…_

_-C_

I mass texted my three best friends, since they had warned me if I didn't let them escort me into school, they would "literally kill" me (Bex's words). Almost two seconds after I got out of the car and slung my black backpack over my shoulder, I heard squealing from none other than Macey McHenry.

"Cam! You're wearing _real clothing_!" She practically screamed. I grinned and looked down at my outfit. I was wearing my black converse, a thin scarf to cover the neck bruises, a long sleeved white t-shirt, but I had also worn black high-waisted shorts. They had been my favorite pair, and tugging them on this morning had been… _fun_.

"You look good, Cam!" Liz added, and Bex just grinned at me.

The three of them grabbed my bruised arms and tugged me inside the school.

Classes were, in a word, _strange_. I guess word had gotten around about my hospital trip after the party, and theories were popping up all over the place. Apparently the most popular one was that I overdosed on oxycontin.

Lunch couldn't have come soon enough. My leg was practically about to fall off from bouncing so much. But as soon as the clock struck 12, and the bell sounded, I was up and flying towards the dining hall. I was the first one at our regular table, so I just set my bag down and got a sandwich. When I came back, all my friends were seated at the table, eating the regular hot lunch. I noticed that Zach was no where to be seen, but remembered that we only had three more weeks left of school, and it would be pointless for him to enroll now.

We all joked around for a few minutes, Bex and Grant teasing each other, Macey flipping her hair, Preston practically drooling over his hamburger, and when the table got quiet, I jumped at the chance to talk.

"So guys," I cleared my throat. "I was thinking this morning, and I realized that… _he_… might not realize that we're done." Thankfully, I didn't have to say his name.

They all looked at me, concern flooding their features, when Preston just gave us a devilish smile.

"We're playing his school in lacrosse for the championship game next week." He wagged his eyebrows cockily.

Everyone nodded, excited for the chance to kick Josh's ass at the thing he loves the most, when Bex just shook her head, cracked her knuckles, and muttered: "He'll know after this weekend."

And despite everything, I grinned at the thought of Josh getting beaten up.


	8. Eight

**Don't kill me! I'm sorry, things have been CRAZY with school and lacrosse. Good news though! I had a game on Monday, and we won 15-1! I only let one goal in, which is practically unheard of in the league! I'm so pumped. I have my last game tomorrow, so wish me luck!**

**This chapter is kinda slow, but I NEED to establish a good Zach/Cammie friendship! Thanks guys!**

* * *

Two Days Later (Friday)

My mouth was completely dry and my legs burned as I turned onto the street leading down to my school. Bex was beside me, Macey a step behind us, and the rest of our teammates were easily a half-mile behind us. We _were_ the three co-captains, after all. Not to mention, the fastest girls on the lacrosse team (We all were just above a 5-minute mile!), and the only girls from our school who get picked to play in the Virginia Lacrosse MVP game every fall.

Every practice we ran three miles as a cool-down. It was intense, sure, but if you wanted to be on the #1 high school girl's lacrosse team in Virginia, you don't take the sport lightly.

When I spotted the huge brick building that was Roseville High, I started to sprint even more than I already was, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Bex do the same. We had started this tradition our freshman year, when we discovered that we pretty much always had the same running time. Macey did too, but she never raced us since she "didn't want to get even more sweaty than she already was". (But, let's be real. Macey McHenry doesn't sweat at all.)

I sprinted up the driveway to the front entrance of the school. To end the run, you had to run up the driveway, past the front doors, then part of the driveway, through the parking lot, and finally, run through the entrance to the sports fields, where Liz would be standing to make sure that everyone finished the run.

I whizzed past the front doors, Bex right on my heels, and started down the driveway again. I turned my head to see how far Bex was, and whipped my head back around once I saw that she was only a yard away from me. But as I turned around, I collided with someone. We both fell, and I heard a laugh from Bex.

"Suck my dick!" She yelled to me, but I wasn't paying attention. I was staring into deep green eyes, lying on top of whoever owned them. I couldn't move, it was like I was hypnotized. But then I heard Bex laughing, and I realized who I was on top of. My eyes got really wide as I rolled off of him.

"Hi, Gallagher Girl." Zach said, smirking at me.

"Sorry, Zach." I said, pushing myself to stand up. "What are you doing here?" I asked him.

He stood up and grabbed a few papers that had flown on the ground when I ran into him, and waved them at me.

"Registration papers." He said, smiling. I nodded. I hadn't seen Zach since Sunday morning, when he had mysteriously left after our early swim. Tingles ran through my body as I thought of swimming with him. We didn't do anything sexual, if that's what you're thinking. I mean, we barely even spoke. But something passed between us in that pool, like a mutual understanding. I knew that he knew that I liked his comment about me having a high pain tolerance, and I hope he knew that even though he was my newest friend, he was really great at knowing how I felt. And I really appreciated that.

I nodded again at his comment, probably looking like an idiot.

"Cool," I said, smiling slightly. He shrugged, and returned my smile, and looked me up and down. I suddenly felt very self conscious of my outfit. I was wearing running shorts and shoes, but I had a thin sweatshirt on, since the hood covered my neck.

"I like your shorts." He said, and winked at me. Shivers raced down my spine, but I also knew that his comment wasn't sexual.

"I like them, too." I grinned at him, and we stood there, grinning at each other like idiots, until I realized what he had actually said to me.

"Wait," I felt my brows furrow together. "Why are you registering now? There's only two weeks of school left. I thought you weren't coming until the fall?" I asked him.

He shrugged, his broad shoulders going up and down. "I'm taking finals with you guys. To get placed in the right classes for next year." I nodded. This made sense. But a feeling ran through me that I recognized. I was… excited? Why was I excited that I'd see more of Zach? It's probably because he's been super-understanding of this whole ordeal, and I want to be his friend. Or at least, that's what I told myself.

"So did you get a tour of the building?" I raised an eyebrow, imagining our secretary, Mrs. Cohen, giving Zach a tour. Mrs. Cohen always wore too much makeup and too high heels, and tended to be a bit, well, _forward_ with the male students at our school.

He shook his head. "She said that I'd get a guide on Monday."

I snorted and immediately he looked at me in bewilderment.

"If you get a girl named Tina Walters, be careful. She'll probably claim you in two seconds within seeing you." I explained.

"Ah, gotcha. Thanks for the tip." He winked at me, playfully. "Got anymore tips for me?" I put a hand to my heart in mock surprise. "Why, Mr. Goode, I never thought you'd ask!" I remarked in a southern accent. I turned around and saw Macey running up the drive.

"Mace!" I called to her, and she smiled at me. "Can you tell the girls that I had some business to take care of? And can you put my gear in my car for me?"

She narrowed her eyes at me and smiled slyly, like she thought Zach and I were going to go fuck in a janitor's closet. Hell, she probably did think that. But before she could make any rude comments, I winked at her and turned around, leading Zach into the front entrance of the school.

…..

"Now you gotta see the best part of the school." I lead Zach into the math wing of the school. I'd already shown him the best places to get cell service, the vending machine that gives you free food if you press the right combo of numbers, and the graffiti wall in the back stairwell behind the auditorium.

Zach laughed. We had been making small talk, mostly him asking questions about the school and me recounting funny stories of the past couple years. Even though Zach and I got along great, something was wrong. I didn't know anything about him. I knew that he was at Blackthorne with my brother, and that he knows how to handle emotions well, but that's it.

I led Zach into my pre-calculus classroom. It was small, but the oldest room in the school. And there, under the whiteboard, was a poster of all the prime numbers. I leaned against the whiteboard, raising my eyebrows at Zach. I could tell that he was confused. It was only a math classroom, after all, but it had something special.

"It's….nice." Zach said after a minute, and I burst out laughing.

"Sure it is," I said sarcastically, but before he could respond, I reached under the blackboard and ripped off the poster. A small, square entrance was revealed, and I crouched down to get into it. Once I was in, I stood up, and started climbing the old ladder.

"Cam?" Zach asked. I looked down to see him hesitating to climb.

"Come on," I rolled my eyes at him.

The climb wasn't long. It was just one story. But, it led to a small room behind the Freshman geometry classroom. The room had old wooden floors and plaster walls, and even though spiders were everywhere, it was a damn good hiding spot. I reached the top of the ladder and pulled myself into a sitting position, drawing patterns in the dust. Zach finally poked his head up, and laughed at me.

"Damn, Gallagher Girl. I never knew how sly you were."

I rolled my eyes at him, and helped him get off of the ladder.

"That's because you barely know me, Zach." I said.

"Hm, I wouldn't say that's true." Zach said, tapping his chin. "I know that you are an amazing goalie, even though I still have to see you play. I know that you are incredibly strong. I know that your friends are more important to you than you'll ever admit. Oh, and you also have been to third base." He recalled from our group game of Never Have I Ever. I snorted at his joke.

"Well," I brushed the dust off of my hands. "I don't know anything about you other than you went to Blackthorne with my brother and that you've been to third base."

"You want to play 20 questions?" He asked, wagging an eyebrow at me.

I laughed. "What are you, the most cliche teenage boy ever?"

"Is that a yes?"

"Fine." I agreed. "But you go first."

He put his hands behind his head and leaned back on the wall. "Hm," he pretended to think really hard. "What is your favorite color?"

"Green." I smirked. "What's your favorite color?"

"Blue." He smirked back. "What kind of music do you like?"

"I really like rap. Earl Sweatshirt, Dr. Dre, Kendrick Lamar, Tyler the Creator. But my favorite band would have to be the 1975, hands down." I admitted to him, hoping that he didn't think I was strange for my music taste.

"No way," He had a look of awe on his face. "I love those guys. And the 1975? Probably the only girly shit I'll ever listen to."

I scoffed at him and rolled my eyes.

We continued our game for awhile. We kept finding out that we have a ton of things in common. We both absolutely love pizza, horror movies, and surprise, surprise; lacrosse. Zach admitted that he has been playing since 5th grade, and I practically tackled him when he said that he didn't know if he was going to join the Roseville team.

"I'll make you a deal," He said, chuckling at my outburst. "If I can't make a goal on you, I'll join the team."

"Deal." I said, grinning. It was _so _on.


End file.
